Beyond Bed and Bath
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Charles receives a rather untimely phone call... N/C, ONESHOT


**Beyond Bed and Bath**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Metalocalypse or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

Warnings: Pretty tame, actually. Mostly just homosexuality, fluff, and one _really_ unbrutal nickname. XD

**--**

Darlene Bates was just about as excited as a woman _could_ be, and these days, it was no surprise as to the reason behind it: Dethklok.

Unlike most of the other women in the world excited over the legendary metal band, however, Darlene's enthusiasm extended beyond the sexual (though she _did_ particularly fancy that tall, blond Swede on guitar…).

Regardless, Darlene was most largely thrilled by the fact that _Dethklok_ was scheduling a performance at _her_ venue.

As she understood it, the five metal musicians were on the verge of celebrating the fifth anniversary of their essential global conquest and rise to fame. In honor of the momentous occasion, frontman Nathan Explosion had very firmly insisted on what he had named the 'Pentatour,' a 'totally brutal redo of the five most metal concerts ever performed.'

The Gulf of Danzig had been revisited (though songs from Dethwater were not performed, true to the promise of doing so on only _one_ occasion) and the Concert That Never Was got a chance to be. The Yannemango eagerly welcomed Dethklok back for a second visit and just as eagerly shared their yopo with the band. Finland had been the next stop on the tour, the very place where the metal band's performance was _so brutal_ that it caused a four-day power outage (though there were some weird rumors involving some kind of troll).

There had been quite a few amused snickers across the various Dethklok internet forums when footage had been released of the band offering a _second_ sheepish apology to the country for their behavior in order to be allowed to play there, the band's small, mousy-looking manager looming behind them ominously and giving them an authoritatively evil eye that was very much reminiscent of a father scolding his rambunctious sons into owning up to their actions. The fourth venue on the tour had been a hippie commune in Missouri, the site still wrecked by the tornado that had ravaged the area during the last concert the band had there.

And now, for the final concert in the Pentatour, the band had _insisted_ on Darlene's venue, the very place where they had first performed together under the name, 'Dethklok.'

Naturally, it wasn't out of some sense of nostalgia, but rather the desire to emphasize how far they'd come since then. Back in those days, the band had absolutely _no_ fans; they now had _thousands._ They didn't have enough money or fame to attain a spot in any performance order other than open-mike night; now, they were the entertainment for the whole evening _and_ they were being paid to do it. They got a standing ovation and only one, measly stagehand had gotten killed; this time, they would receive ecstatic screams and cheers and blood would flow for them like millions of fountains, as it always did.

Now, Darlene had known there were a few things that would certainly prove problematic in accepting the request to host the concert. Her venue was essentially a small, shitty hole in the wall and _hundreds of thousands of people_ would be trying to pack into it. Dethklok, true to their namesake, carried death with them like a plague, 9 times out of 10 bringing destruction in their wake, as well. Despite the dedicated fans that often came to pay homage to the humble beginnings of their beloved Metal Gods, bringing a good deal of money into her business, there was absolutely _no way_ that she could afford to pay for _Dethklok_-induced damages.

Still, the meeting with the band's manager was going _amazingly_ well, and Mr. Ofdensen had adroitly answered every single one of her concerns without her even having to open her mouth.

He truly _was_ experienced in the field of venue-negotiation, Darlene supposed.

"Well, Ms. Bates," the lawyer hummed, idly flipping through the contract that'd been drawn up in review, "it seems that everything is in order here. Dethklok will be performing at your establishment this upcoming Saturday. You and you employees have all cleared the background check and obviously prove no threat to the band. For hosting the event, you will receive 10% of the revenue brought in, which should be more than enough to cover whatever damages result to your venue. In signing this contract, you will be agreeing to all of that in addition to passing on your liability for those that attend the concert to Dethklok which will of course be passed on to the concert-goers themselves upon the signing of the Pain Waiver." The brunette man looked up at her through stern, bespectacled eyes. "Any questions?"

"No, sir," Darlene assured, "everything sounds wonderful." The dark-haired woman accepted the contract as it was handed to her, scanning it briefly to assure that she would not be agreeing to anything extraneous. It appeared to be perfectly legit, of course, and so she grabbed a nearby pen, signing her assent to the terms and conditions on the dotted line and initialing where necessary.

"Excellent," Mr. Ofdensen grinned, looking very much pleased as he took the papers back and gave them a cursory once-over to make sure everything was as it should be. "Well, I believe we're done here, then."

Darlene followed the man's example and stood, extending her hand to take the lawyer's and shake it vigorously. Though his hand seemed to be small for a man's, only a bit bigger than hers, it was broad and from his firm, restrained grip, obviously powerful. Darlene idly wondered what Charles did in his free time to have such strong hands. Nonetheless, she smiled brightly, speaking, "Thank you, Mr. Ofdensen, I'm truly honored by Dethklok's business!"

The brunette man offered a wry smirk in response. "On behalf of the boys, they're thankful that you're honored. As ungrateful as they act towards their fans and the people behind the scenes, they're very much aware that they would be no one without them."

"Well," Darlene chuckled, "it wouldn't be very 'brutal' of them to go around thanking fans for their success, would it?"

Charles laughed. "You're beginning to scare me, Ms. Bates," he informed. "Nathan said as much to me the other day, nearly verbatim."

The woman opened her mouth to reply…

…and was deftly cut off by a heavy metal guitar riff.

One did not know the name 'Dethklok' without being a fan of the music and Darlene immediately recognized the little bit of tune as that of the song, 'The Gears,' oddly fitting for band's manager, she mused.

"Excuse me," Charles muttered, plucking a cell phone from his pocket. "I have to take this."

The woman nodded, knowing how busy Ofdensen must be.

"Hello? …Hi to you, too." The manager abruptly sighed. "I _told_ you where I was going before I left…You forgot. Of course you did."

Darlene tensed, wondering if she was about to hear Mr. Ofdensen have it out with who could only be a ditzy, clingy girlfriend (and of course, she would _have_ to listen; she couldn't leave the room or anything, even though it was kind of rude to listen in on someone else's conversation…).

Instead of picking a fight, however, Charles laughed. "No, I'm not mad," he chuckled softly, mindful of the nearby woman's presence, "I know you forget sometimes." Another amused snort. "No, I do _not_ want to go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Please don't compare me to that heinous-…Yes, I agree. I'm _much_ easier to deal with."

The dark-haired woman was grateful that it hadn't become a lover's quarrel, but now she was curious: she'd never heard any news of the manager having a girlfriend! Granted, shows such as the Dethklok Minute didn't really _cover_ anyone but the five main members of the band and their exploits, but it still seemed as if _someone, somewhere_ would've heard _something_ about the lawyer's love-life!

Intrigued, she continued to listen in on the conversation.

"What did you call me for?" Ofdensen inquired of his lover. There was a pause, then, "Yes, I'll help you paint your nails…Soon. No, not now, I'm busy now. I'll be home in an hour or two, and we can do it then."

Darlene did her best to hide her smile. How cute; the big bad lawyer and manager was going to go home and paint his girlfriend's nails for her!

Abruptly, Charles frowned. "When?" he demanded. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened before they closed completely, a hand massaging the bridge of his nose. "I leave for ten minutes and…" he muttered irritably, trailing off. "Have someone clean up the mess and tell them that I'm going to be home soon; see if _that_ puts the fear of God in them."

There was a long pause before several squeals loud enough to be heard by Darlene (who was not even _on_ the phone) sounded, quickly followed by a 'pitter-patter' noise indicative of running away.

The manager grinned. "Yes, I thought that would do the trick. Get someone to clean up the room for you in the meantime, and I'll handle them personally when I get-…yes, and _then_ I'll do your nails for you."

The picture Darlene's mind was painting for her continued to get cuter; Mr. Ofdensen had _kids,_ probably mischievous boys by the sound of things, and that would really explain how he was so good at dealing with the metal musicians he managed. She never would've imagined Charles as a family man, complete with wife and kids, but doing so was incredibly adorable.

"Alright," the lawyer began, his tone indicative of the impending end of the phone call, "well, if that's all you wanted to talk to me about…Yeah, well, I'm just wrapping things up over here, and I'll be getting in the Dethlimo some ten minutes from now. Okay, I'll…okay…okay…Yeah, I can bring something home, what do you want? Barbecue-flavored, right? …Yes, you _are_ that predictable. Alright, so, I'll be home in an hour, hour and a half tops, and then we can…yes…yes…" Charles shot a sideways glance at the woman in the room before quietly muttering, "Love you, too, snugglepoof."

The cell phone was closed and put away and Charles was quite suddenly all-business again. "Ms. Bates, I thank you for your cooperation. We'll contact you if any plans change, but I really must get going."

"Oh, of course," Darlene smiled, "I understand how it is with family. Um, your wife sounds very sweet, Mr. Ofdensen!"

The man gave her an odd smile in return. "Yes," he said, "well…Nathan is quite the teddy bear offstage and off-camera. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to Mordhaus before the rest of the boys blow up a watermelon in _my_ room. We'll see you Saturday."

Without further ado, Ofdensen placed the newly-signed contract in his briefcase and left the room, headed back home to do some management outside of the business end of things while a stunned Darlene remained almost frozen in place behind him.

In a mere hour, a post showed up on an internet forum, declaring that not only was Nathan Explosion of Dethklok gay and actively having sex with his manager, his nickname from the other man was something so unbrutal as 'snugglepoof.'

It was, of course, declared 'shenanigans' by all who saw it and was deleted from the forum by the following morning on the grounds of spreading obviously false rumors about one of the Gods of Metal.

**--**

**A/N: I can't say I'm sure where this came from, but I hope you liked it anyways! XD **


End file.
